Realism
by x-clownsdontbounce-x
Summary: — 'No, Jade West was either going to do it her way, or not at all.' [Jori]. Written for the Seven Days of Victorious Prompts event.


Hiya, so as a co-host, I felt obliged to write something for y'all. You are all awesome, so this is, in a way, dedicated to each one of you. A special thanks to YouCan'tControlMe for cheering me up. I couldn't have written this without you, onee-san!

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><p><strong><em>A Few Hours.<em>**

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><p>Hollywood was supposed to be a city of luxury and opportunity—it was what Jade had always believed.<p>

She used to pride herself for being as realistic as she was; seeing things and acknowledging problems others chose to hide in closets and under tables. But she had never once questioned when, or even_ if_, she would become as successful as the girl in her dreams.

For years she'd believed that she had practically made it already; that her voice and her Hollywood Arts diploma were her staircase to fame and she was simply waiting for the right moment to climb it, but as she stared at the wall across from the sofa in her one bedroom apartment, where a spot was reserved for a flat-screen television she still didn't have enough money for, the goth started to doubt that she'd even been truly honest with _herself._

She pulled up her fleece blanket to cover her stomach, causing her toes to peep out at the bottom. They were immediately met with a waft of cold air, sending a shiver down her spine. She sighed, inhaling the familiar musty scent of the room. the continuous howling of the wind outside the window made for peaceful, relaxing background music as she once again reflected on her past.

_She knew she did that too often these day; way more than any twenty year old should, but she just couldn't help but wonder sometimes._

Her eyes fluttered shut, long eyelashes tickling her skin. _Maybe if she dreamed hard enough, everything would go back to the way it was._ There were a lot of things wrong with her life, the first being that the apartment—the cheapest she could afford when she bought it three years ago—was as leaky as a sieve, causing water damage and leakage that formed ugly stains on the ceiling she couldn't afford to paint over, and a chill in the air even the heater couldn't fix. She wiggled her toes a little. _It s__eemed she was still stuck in the same damn place. _

Needless to say, it was nothing like the luxurious suite she'd imagined herself living in.

The second problem was her career, or the lack thereof. After Hollywood arts, she'd had to build a fan-base all over again, which turned out to be quite a challenge. Jade might have been talented—even back then—but she wasn't remotely sympathetic or easy to relate to. It wasn't as if she hadn't tried building on other people; being the support act at co-stars' concerts. She had, it just wasn't her thing. She enjoyed her freedom; being able to live by her own rules, and she wasn't going to alter the way she lived her life for something as ephemeral as money.

She sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. _She wasn't going to deny that she wanted numbers with muntiple zeros on her bank account like any person in their right mind, she just didn't want to have to pretend to achieve it. She wasn't about to ask her dad for a loan, either. _He'd just give her that look she knew so well; the one that screamed 'I told you so', and leave her to fend for herself. She could live in the streets for all he cared.

_No, Jade West was going to either do it her way, or not at all._ And it seemed that just might be what she was looking at: not making it at all.

She knew she was still young; it just didn't feel that way.

For a split second she wondered, as she did so often, what she was doing it for. Why she didn't just give up on her dreams like everyone else did after a while. Then she remembered that, amidst all of her daily struggles, there was a small shred of light; a spark.

_Victoria Vega._

Spending even a few hours with that girl was enough to brighten Jade's day—week, even. Tori would say things both of them knew weren't true just to make her feel better, and somehow—she'd always convince Jade to try again.

_She always gave in._

So when Jade opened her eyes and blinked away the tears that had formed behind her eyelids, the first thing she did was grab her cellphone from the coffee table, dialing the only number she cared to remember besides her mother's.

"Can you come over?"


End file.
